Wind's in the East
by bravenclawesome
Summary: Arthur looked at Merlin with an expression of pure relief written all over his face and said breathlessly, "Merlin, oh, Merlin, I dreamed you were dead," and before Merlin could figure out what was going on, Arthur leaned in and kissed him. Despite the fact that Merlin had lived for over a thousand years, the touch of Arthur's lips to his felt like the breath of life.


Wind's in the East

"Merlin," said Arthur sleepily as he stumbled into Merlin's bedroom at four in the morning, rubbing his hands and shivering. "_Mer_lin, I'm cold."

"Mmmmmpppff." Merlin rolled over and sat up, blinking as his sleepy eyes focused on the Arthur-shaped silhouette in the doorway. "Whazzit now?"

It had been around two weeks since Arthur had finally returned. When he dragged his king out of the lake of Avalon, Merlin had thrown his arms around him and shamelessly cried his eyes out with happiness and relief. However, the aftermath of Arthur's reincarnation hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows. It was true that Merlin loved his king and still couldn't believe that he was back, and he was so, so glad that the wait was over, but he found that over the centuries, he had romanticised Arthur's return a little more than he had realised.

For one thing, he hadn't thought about how disoriented Arthur would be at having arrived in a completely unfamiliar world, or his reaction when he realised that more than a thousand years had passed and that there was no hope of seeing Gwen or Leon or any friends he had known from his past life ever again. He hadn't expected Arthur to freak out quite so much at all the new technologies of the modern world he immediately deemed as some other form of sorcery, despite Merlin's repeated explanations that it was science. Arthur didn't seem to get that there was logic and reason to the way you could control the stream coming out of the water tap without so much as a quick push and pull of the handle, or how it could still be bright as day indoors when the sun wasn't anywhere in sight.

Merlin could go on, but the point was that he had been waiting so long, he hadn't figured out what he would do when he was actually _done_ waiting. How to explain to Arthur that he was immortal, for instance. Or how Arthur couldn't act all kingly around other people because they would think he was either a pompous brat or completely out of his mind. And especially the fact that he couldn't just charge up to the Queen of England and take her place on the throne because he was the Once and Future King of Albion. Ah, yes, Albion. That would take some explaining too.

There was also the issue, of course, that Merlin's love for Arthur had not diminished all this time. That wasn't to say that Merlin hadn't had countless affairs with men and women over the years whose names he couldn't remember now, but he always outlived them or had to make some sort of excuse to leave before they noticed that he didn't age. Merlin had travelled all over the world so that people wouldn't recognise him, using magic to alter his appearance if he stayed for a lengthy time in one place before 'dying' and moving away to a new location. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and in Merlin's case the old adage couldn't be truer. His love for Arthur was like a slowly kindling fire, burning slowly but never going out, only to burst fully into flame once the king appeared in his world again. After Merlin had rescued Arthur from the lake, it had taken all of his willpower not to just take him in his arms and kiss him senseless.

(When he thought back on it, he often wished that he had just taken the impulse and done it, so he wouldn't have to be stuck in the same position he was centuries before, pining after Arthur and knowing that he could never tell him.)

That was until Merlin had come up with an unbelievably childish yet brilliant idea to profess his feelings for Arthur to him. It started with the layout of Merlin's flat.

Since Arthur had nowhere else to go, he had moved in with him and taken the guest bedroom. Arthur had tried to cajole Merlin to switch so that he could sleep in the master bedroom, until Merlin reasoned that a) he was not going to bother moving all the things he had collected over fifteen centuries, magic or without, into another room, b) the guest bedroom was no different from the master bedroom, except for the en-suite bathroom that Arthur had yet to get his head around and c) Merlin was not his manservant in this life, and Arthur not the king, so Arthur had better be thankful that he was sleeping in an actual bed instead of in a cardboard box on the streets. After that, Arthur had promptly shut up and made himself comfortable without another word.

The brilliant thing about Merlin's plan was that Arthur's bedroom window faced north, which meant that whenever it was windy, gusts of icy cold wind would blow into the room. Merlin also knew that despite Arthur's hot temper, the king actually got cold rather easily at night. Back in his chambers in Camelot, Arthur had had a fireplace to keep him warm, but here Merlin had no such thing because he hadn't bothered with one. Why would he have to, when he could manipulate the elements to do what he wished and change the room temperature to suit his needs? Merlin's own bedroom, meanwhile, had the window facing east, which meant it always had warm breezes blowing gently in.

Basically, if things worked out the way Merlin wanted them to, Arthur would come over to his room to complain, like he was doing right this second at the arse-crack of dawn.

"It's freezing in my room, M-Mer-Merlin," said Arthur, unable to stifle a yawn. "I've put on a nightshirt, but I still can't sleep."

Merlin smiled to himself. He may or may not have used his magic to lower the temperature by a few degrees in Arthur's room, just enough for him to feel the northerly chill even more. "Sleep here, then," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, and shifted in his bed to make room for the other man before lying down and closing his eyes again.

There was a silence, during which Merlin assumed that Arthur was gaping at his half-asleep form. "I am _not_ sharing a bed with you," he heard him say, sounding a little affronted.

"Why not?" Merlin opened one eye to look at him. "The bed's big enough for the both of us."

"Because..." Arthur spluttered, but didn't seem to be able to make any coherent sentences.

"Because I'm a lowly servant and you're the king of Camelot?" Merlin opened his other eye so he could roll both of them at him. "Arthur, how many times do I have to tell you that you're _not royalty anym- _"

"Yes, yes, I know, but still," said Arthur, looking unsure.

"I don't mind you sleeping in my bed," said Merlin. "So you can stay here if you like, but I won't stop you if you want to freeze your toes off all alone in your bedroom with nothing but the howling wind for company."

Perhaps he was being a little overdramatic, but his words worked their charm on Arthur. With a mutter of something that sounded a lot like, "oh, fuck it," Arthur walked towards the side of the bed Merlin had left empty for him and sank onto the mattress. Still upright with his feet on the wooden floorboards, he turned and looked down at Merlin, who smiled sleepily at him. Merlin lifted the blankets, inviting Arthur to slip under them. Arthur gave him another wary look before he slowly and carefully lay down and took a corner of the duvet, pulling it over his body.

For Merlin, this was enough for now. The silence that surrounded them as they slowly inched towards slumber was a comfortable one, not at all awkward like the time they had had to spend the night stuck in a _net_, of all places. He remembered how they had accidentally kneed each other multiple times in several embarrassing body parts. He could hear Arthur's soft breathing less than a foot away, and fought the urge to roll over and touch him. He decided to make a compromise with himself. Rolling over onto his side so that he was facing away from Arthur, he held out his hands and whispered as softly as he could, "_Ic i hæte._"

Almost instantly, the air around Merlin's hands warmed. Merlin carefully spread the hot air outwards to the rest of the room with his mind, slowly so as not to cause too much suspicion with the rise in temperature. He knew that this was cheating, but a few minutes later Arthur was shifting around on his side of the bed, making the mattress bounce as he felt the effects of the heat. Finally, Merlin heard him murmur, "Sorry," before the sounds of Arthur getting up and shuffling out of his nightshirt were heard. He heard a distinct _flump_ as the nightshirt was discarded it on the armchair by Merlin's bookshelf right next to the bed. Before long, Arthur was settling under the covers again, this time shirtless with only his boxers on.

_That's more like it_, Merlin thought to himself, listening to Arthur's breathing slow until the breaths became gentle snores. He couldn't help but grin into the darkness that enveloped them both.

Barely moments later, Merlin fell into the deepest, most blissful sleep he had had since his time in Camelot.

* * *

During the day, Merlin showed Arthur around the area they lived and explained the things they saw around them, while Arthur stared wide-eyed at everything they passed. They garnered a few strange looks from other people whenever Arthur got excited about things like fire extinguishers, but Merlin was patient with him. When night came, Arthur gradually got used to sleeping in Merlin's room, and eventually stopped bothering with the nightshirt. It wasn't like he had anything embarrassing to hide, Merlin thought, not when he had such a lovely torso. (Obviously, he was never going to tell Arthur that, for fear of both dying of humiliation _and_ inflating Arthur's already humongous ego.) It wasn't long before Merlin also decided to shuck his own top as well when he went to bed, craving the body heat and less layers of clothing between himself and Arthur. It had become a habit of his to wear one to sleep so he could get up faster in the morning to attend to his duties, but there was no need for that now.

A few days passed. Every night, Merlin and Arthur slept together in a very innocent, literal sense. Both men kept to their respective sides of the bed, and both were fine with the arrangement, or at least appeared to be. Arthur seemed to be fine with it, but Merlin had had to wake up early one morning before Arthur did so he could go to the bathroom for a satisfying wank - or as satisfying as a wank could be when the person you had been loving for all eternity had been sleeping almost naked in your bed for three consecutive nights without any sort of bodily contact, and was pretty much driving you mental with frustration and lust. Merlin was beginning to think that his brilliant plan had flaws in it after all. He certainly had not intended for Arthur to have this effect on him.

Except.

The following night, Merlin was just about to drift off to sleep when he felt the duvet shift. Immediately alert, he snapped his head to his left to look at Arthur, squinting into the darkness. From what he knew of the King's sleeping habits (which he was well attuned to, having had to wake him every single morning back in Camelot), Arthur tended to wake up in the exact same position he had gone to bed in, barely moving an inch throughout the night apart from the occasional toss and turn. This was surprising considering how active he was during the day, but Merlin had to admit it did sort of balance things out. However, while the blankets had moved, the mattress and therefore Arthur's body had not.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Merlin observed that Arthur was curled up in an almost foetal position on his side, facing away from him. As he watched, Arthur's hand clenched tightly on the blankets, then gave a sharp tug. The covers slid off Merlin's body, leaving him exposed to the air in their bedroom and making him shiver slightly. Arthur curled even tighter into a ball as the duvet wrapped itself around him like a cocoon. That was when Merlin noticed that Arthur was trembling, and that it wasn't from the cold. Arthur was shaking despite the warmth of the blankets around him, and when Merlin inched closer he could hear Arthur whimpering softly, as if in fear.

"N-no... don't kill him... let him go..."

Then it dawned on him. Arthur was having a nightmare.

Merlin felt a sudden rush of overprotectiveness surge up from within the very core of his being, and before he knew what he was doing, he was rolling across the invisible boundary in the middle of their bed that neither of them had attempted to breach. Once he was close enough, he threw a comforting arm around Arthur's waist and pulled him closer, nuzzling gently into the gap between Arthur's shoulder blades.

"No... stop..." Arthur was still mumbling in his sleep, and in such close proximity Merlin could feel him shifting restlessly as he begged whoever it was he was speaking to in his dream. "He's my friend... _Merlin_..."

Merlin froze.

Arthur didn't seem to notice he was listening, still trapped in his dream. "Merlin," he called again in a plaintive cry, begging his dream attacker to spare his friend's life. "Merlin, _Merlin_..."

Merlin tried to will away the blood that was threatening to rush to his groin at the sound of Arthur moaning his name which, when taken out of context, sounded absolutely filthy. Merlin took deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to calm himself, but Arthur only seemed to get more distressed with every repeat of Merlin's name.

Eventually, Merlin could take it no longer. "It's okay, Arthur," he said with feeling, trying to reassure the sleeping man. "I'm here, you've got me right here. I'm okay, Arthur. It's going to be all right."

Merlin's voice cracked on the last word, and the sound of it seemed to stir Arthur in his sleep. Merlin's arm tightened around Arthur's waist as he felt the slow quickening of his breaths, indicating that Arthur had woken up.

"Merlin," was the first thing Arthur said. Something tugged inside of Merlin to hear the confusion in the king's voice as he came back to reality.

It took a few seconds for Arthur to notice Merlin's arm wrapped around him, and when he did, he looked down at it and fell completely silent. Merlin waited with bated breath, wondering if this was too much, if he should remove his arm and move away again before it was too late. But them Arthur rolled around in his sheets to look at him with his disheveled blonde hair, startling blue eyes and an expression of pure relief written all over his face.

"Merlin," he said breathlessly, "oh, Merlin, I dreamed you were _dead_," and before Merlin could figure out what the hell was going on, Arthur leaned in and kissed him, and then his thoughts pretty much went to shit after that. For despite the fact that Merlin had lived for over a thousand years, the touch of Arthur's lips to his felt like the breath of life.

Merlin responded to Arthur's lips with a feverish passion, his hands scrabbling at thin air as he tried to hold on to something, anything, unable to believe that this was happening to him. The kiss was desperately hot and wanting, and Merlin felt Arthur's tongue licking into his mouth to claim what was his, holding onto him like he was the last thing he had in the world. At some point Arthur rolled on top of him and trailed kisses down Merlin's jaw before attaching his lips to the tendon in Merlin's neck. In doing so the rest of his body slid downwards as well, causing delicious friction as his torso rubbed against Merlin's crotch in a way that had him arching his back off the bed with a cry. Arthur jerked in surprise as Merlin bucked his hips, then stopped kissing his neck to look downwards, right at the bulge in Merlin's now too-small boxers.

"Christ," he said softly. "Can I – " But clearly Arthur decided he didn't need permission to do whatever he wanted to do, and what he had wanted to ask for made itself evident enough when he reached down and cupped Merlin's balls in his calloused hand, giving his cock a gentle squeeze.

Merlin felt another shred of his self-control slip away and let out a moan. Encouraged by his reaction, Arthur tentatively pulled down the waistband of Merlin's boxers and gave his cock an experimental stroke, complete with a little flick of the wrist at the end that had Merlin choking off a gasp.

"Arthur," he said, sounding absolutely wrecked, letting out a whine when Arthur's thumb grazed the slit at the tip, "oh God, _fuck,_ Arthur, don't stop, please don't stop…"

Merlin flailed a bit before rationality caught up with his brain and made him realise the need to reciprocate. He reached down as well and slid his hand into Arthur's boxers, palming his cock and wrapping his fingers around the hard length. The filthy noise Arthur made in response to this was enough to spur Merlin on. He pumped Arthur's cock with a pressure that made him pant into Merlin's ear as he did the same to him. The angle and rhythm was awkward, but neither of them cared; both men were breathing heavily into each other's shoulders as they brought each other off, trying to establish a pace that would make up for the years they had lived together and the centuries they had lost, a pace that would make up for the time they had spent apart from each other.

"Merlin," Arthur gasped as Merlin thrust his hips up against him. Their cocks rubbed together and both men hissed with pleasure at the contact. Suddenly Arthur's hands left his cock in favour of bringing it to Merlin's face to caress his cheek, his thumb lingered at the edge of Merlin's lip. Merlin's tongue darted out to chase after it, tasting his own precome on his tongue as he turned his head and sucked it into his mouth.

"_Fuck_, Merlin," Arthur choked out, his eyes wide and dilated with pleasure, staring at the way his thumb disappeared between Merlin's swollen, well-kissed lips. Merlin canted his hips upwards again and Arthur responded quickly. They began to rut into each other, only caring about the build build _build _of the tension coiling in their stomachs, bringing them ever closer to the brink of release. When Merlin seized up and came with a cry of, "A-A-A-_Arthur_," Arthur shut his eyes and spilled as well. They held on for dear life to each other, shuddering through their release as they roped both their chests with come.

When it was over, Arthur opened his eyes and saw Merlin staring right back at him, his eyes a burning, molten gold with swirling hints of the blue he knew so well. The shock on Arthur's face must have frightened him, because in the next moment Merlin was closing his eyes to hide the amber glow in them and turning away.

"No, don't," said Arthur. He reached to cup Merlin's face and turned it towards him. "You don't have to hide. It's – it's beautiful. _You're_ beautiful."

Just then, as if it had intended to all along, the first ray of dawn streamed in from the window and bathed the room in a golden light. Arthur's hair glowed like a halo or a crown, and Merlin lost breath to stare at him in wonder.

Merlin exhaled shakily, his breath sending warm shivers through Arthur as they touched his cheek. "I-I love you, Arthur," he said in a burst of passion. "I've always loved you, and I don't think I'll ever stop. I've waited for you all this time."

With these words of honesty, Arthur felt himself wanting to share something he had kept secret for a while now. "I was afraid to share a bed with you," he, sounding more hesitant that he had ever been in all the time he had lived, "because I feared I would... lose control. I didn't want to... to take advantage - "

"You could never take advantage of me," said Merlin, reaching out to touch Arthur's soft blonde hair. Arthur saw tears welling in Merlin's eyes as he leaned into the touch, much like Merlin himself had done when his king had reached up to touch his hair in the last moments before his untimely death. "You're a good person, Arthur. Never lose sight of that."

"You sacrificed so much for me back in Camelot," said Arthur. "There was so much I wanted to tell you, so many things I wanted you to explain, but there was no time…" He stopped when Merlin shushed him, and a tear fell from his watery blue eyes.

"Don't worry, Arthur," he said softly. "Now we have all the time in the world."

**Author's Note:****  
****According to an Old English translator I found online, the spell Merlin whispers, "ic i hæte" means in Modern English "I heat, become hot". I thought it suitably ambiguous. *winks***

**This fanfiction was based off a fanart I found on Deviantart by kneelmortals of Merlin and Arthur sleeping, which can be seen in the image cover for this story. I thought it was cute because Merlin was wearing red Pendragon boxers, until my friend Nick said he thought it was cute because Arthur had stolen the blankets. With that, my imagination ran wild, and I wrote this story down in one four-hour sitting during a buffet dinner **_**on my phone **_**because I was THAT****desperate to write it.**

**The mature scene in this fic was rather new for me because I'm rather used to writing people doing the actual frick-frack rather than handjobs and frottage. It was surprisingly fun and easy to write.**

**I came up with the title after I had finished writing it (which is unusual, for me) and if you didn't get the Mary Poppins reference, here's a verse for you:**

_**Wind's in the east, there's a mist coming in**_

_**Like something is brewing and about to begin**_

_**Can't put my finger on what lies in store**_

_**But I feel what's to happen all happened before.**_

**I thought it tied in well with the fact that Merlin's window faces east and all that. Anyway, enough rambling from me, because this is the longest author's note I've ever written, so please just leave a review and make me happy, will you?**


End file.
